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I've had this game lying around for a while. I'd tried playing it the normal way and got stuck somewhere around some sort of subway terrorrist crisis or something like that. So, maybe it's time to try playing it the not-normal way.
My first task as an agent is to name myself.

I figured it'd be more fun if I specialize in heavy weapons and demolition.
Agent Murphy McPooball Smith, reporting for duty.

So while I'm on the docks in my first mission, I start picking up random things lying on the ground.
One of them happens to be a trash bag, which I can't exactly stow away.

I'm contacted by another agent, Murphy's brother, who informs me of the mission. The whole dialogue goes on while I still have the trash bag in my arms.
A lot of blah blah blah later, I'm given a "GEP Gun" (which I guess is a fancy word for bazooka). As he leaves, I throw the bag and hit him in the back.

A few moments later, some corporal comes up and starts talking to me. I pick up the bag and throw it at him too.

Isn't it funny how things that people tell you aren't funny, actually really are?

Instead of going on my mission (which is to save hostages or something), I instead opt to build myself a stack of various large objects I find lying around.

Seeing that my work here is done, I take my trash bag and enter the park, where the terrorists await.
I'm sent a transmission about being stealthy, then discard the information and start firing my pistol at every person I see. (They're all terrorists, so this isn't a problem)
I manage to kill two guys before I run out of ammo. One of them comes running at me, firing his gun. I manage to run up and zap him with my charger prod. While he's stunned, I pull out my GEP.



I was slightly injured from these encounters, and I was carrying a lot of items, so I decided to drink some soda and some "forty" to get some of my health back.
The forty, in fact, made me drunk for about 10 seconds.

Exploring a little, I find a couple of TNT crates. Murphy McPooball Smith, unable to control his intense disire to stack things, tosses one of these crates onto the other. They both explode. I die.

It's a minor setback, for sure, but it's a disconcerting one.

Okay, time to start from the beginning again.
This time, I decide maybe Murphy McPooball Smith isn't right for this job. And as such, Hambo Partycrapper is born.

Hammy, despite a jovial name, is much more of a down-to-business guy.
When something needs to be done, Hammy Partycrapper will be there to do it, probably, more-or-less, even if he has to kill anyone that stands in his way, including himself.

First off, Hammy won't be poisoning himself on any dumbass "Forty" and sets about tossing the bottle to sea.

Second, stacking is for wusses. To ensure no stacking goes on at any time, Hammy destroys all the crates with a crowbar he finds lying around on the dock.

And not just crates. Trash cans are a clear and present danger to the nation's stacking crisis and must be destroyed.

I destroy the garbage bag while I'm at it. Can't afford to go walking around with a trash bag, now, can I? Murphy did that and look what happened to him.
Inside the garbage bag was a rat. I stepped on it. I try twice to search it for valuable weapons or gear. Nothing.

I'll need a more efficient source of ammunition. Especially since I wasted all of my rockets trying to blow up the police boat, which is invulnerable for some reason.


Acting quickly, I take out the corporal.

First, I stun him.

Then I nail him with the crowbar.

Groovy.

In addition to the ammunition he supplies, Hammy's steel trap of a mind concludes he also makes an excellent weapon. I grab the body and run into the park and hurl it at the nearest terrorist.

This only stuns the terrorist and I have to take him down with my pistol.
Unfortunately, the special agent (who is now Hammy's brother instead of Murphy's, for some reason) sees me carrying the body, calls me a Jackass and runs after me, firing a machine gun at me, right into the den of terrorists. I've never seen a man so eager to kill his own brother.
Strangely enough, the terrorist I was attacking dies from stray machinegun fire and not from my attacks.
I run further along to find a baddie with a crossbow. I try to put crossbow-man between my brother and myself, but unfortunately my brother the hero doesn't want to risk hitting the terrorist and runs around to me. The two work together to take me out. I die.
The agent calmly returns to his zone and the terrorist doesn't bother trying to stop him.

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